


For the Forbidden Things

by RogueBelle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Blackcest, Breathplay, F/M, Face Slapping, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Incest, Love/Hate, Rating: NC17, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-13
Updated: 2011-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-27 06:49:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueBelle/pseuds/RogueBelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thrown together at a society event, Bellatrix confronts Sirius about what should have been. Her taunting eventually provokes both his temper and his passions into exploding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Forbidden Things

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, I'm hardly going to curse you with this crowd about." Bellatrix's eye-roll was as infuriating as her cavalier tone. Sirius hunched himself more over the balcony railing, as though removing her from his peripheral vision would remove her from existence.

 _'Damn Diana Eldridge,'_ Sirius thought, bitterly. Diana was in the perhaps unenviable position of being a pureblood of impeccable pedigree who had neither joined up with the Death Eaters nor turned 'blood traitor'. Somehow, she managed to have friends on both sides of the fence, and, wittingly or not, had invited members of both sides of the war to the same party -- along with a host of Ministry officials and their hangers-on. Neither side could storm out, or they'd be risking bringing uncomfortable attention to themselves. Sirius couldn't decide if Diana was making some misguided attempt to encourage reconciliations and cool tensions, or if she was far dimmer than he'd ever suspected, but either way, the entire evening resembled nothing so much as a box of firecrackers just waiting for ignition.

He should have known better than to hope Bellatrix would leave well enough alone.

There was a rustle of silk, and then dusky arms came into view, leaning on the iron-wrought rail. "Come now, Sirius," Bella drawled. "This is a party. You're meant to be mingling. You know... meaningless chatter, tiny snacks, repetitive dances, all of that."

"Fuck off, Bella," he growled, refusing to look either at or away from her.

For a moment, she remained silent, staring out at the sky, and for a moment, Sirius almost let himself believe she wasn't there. Then, when she did speak, the mockery had left her voice.

"Do you wait for it, too?"

Sirius closed his eyes briefly. "Do I _what_?"

"Wait for it."

He looked at her. He knew it was a mistake, knew he shouldn't, knew he'd regret it. But he looked at her, and she was beautiful.

Bella had always been beautiful. Sirius considered it her worst fault, the greatest sin of her existence, to appear so stunning, a vicious mind and poisoned soul unfairly gifted with such deceptive glory.

"Do you wait for the day when our stars rise?" she went on. "I always do. Even though it means winter is coming. There's just something terribly comforting about looking up and seeing a celestial body that has a connection to me. And I wondered if you waited for it, too."

Trying to look away, but unable to tear his eyes from her moon-bathed face, the silver light dancing on dark lashes, Sirius sighed, and gruffly replied, "Yes. I do."

The shade of a smile touched her lips. "I thought you might."

Sirius turned, leaning his elbows back on the railing and gazing back towards the ballroom. "Don't read too much into it."

"And whyever would I?" she asked, and he noted the creep of acid back into her voice.

"It doesn't mean _anything_."

"Black blood runs true and strong, Sirius." A hectic pace, the heat of fervor climbing in her words. "You've just proven as much. Running away doesn't make it stop—"

"Enough," he snarled, in warning.

"—You'll never get rid of it, Sirius, you can't get rid of something that's in your _blood_." High colour flooded her cheeks; not the anger he usually saw, but excitement, even hope. Her fingers reached out, closing around his wrist, and with the pressure of her thumb on his vein, he felt his pulse leap at her touch.

"Enough!" The word ripped out of him in a roar, and he spun around, seizing her shoulders.

But Bella didn't stop, she went on, inexorable: "Listen to what your blood is telling you, Sirius, come back to us, to _me_ \--"

"Stop it!"

"The stars are in your blood, Sirius, you can't ignore them forev--!" The last word halted abruptly when Sirius smacked her sharply across the mouth. He wanted to hurt her, he wanted to get rid of her, hell, he wanted to throw her off the bloody balcony. But when she gave a soft little gasp, and her tongue darted out to moisten her sore lower lip... oh, then he wanted to do something else entirely.

Her dark eyes looked up at him, narrowed slightly, her emotions broiling. The usual hate and disgust with her errant cousin swirled at the surface, but beneath them, Bellatrix felt a surge of hope, of passion renewed. She could do this, she could bring her cousin back into the fold, and with him at her side, they could be such a force, such a team...

It was what had always been intended for them.

Bella drew a deep breath. He hadn't broken away from her yet, and she knew that could only be working in her favour. They had not been so near since the day he had left home, when she had confronted him for what she thought would be the last time. It had been more than two years, yet still, she felt the tremor she had experienced then, the flutter of fate like a hummingbird's heart in her hand.

Sirius's hand drifted over her hair as his head dipped close to hers. "Damn you..." he whispered. "How in hell do you..."

He never finished the question, though she suspected she knew what it was. His forehead touched to hers, his mirror-grey eyes drinking in the luxury of her beauty. Deftly, his fingers tangled in her raven curls, and he pulled slightly, delighting in the soft, sharp intake of breath the thrill of pain provoked from her.

He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and never let go, wanted to lay claim to a prize some part of him still screamed ought to have been his all along. An image entered his head unbidden, of her dark skin laid bare, her body writhing beneath his, his hands pinning her wrists down to silk sheets. Intoxicating lust flooded through him, and his hands tightened on her. With his lips a breath above her jawline, he inhaled the spicy scent of her, exotic and enticing; then he dropped away suddenly, cursing under his breath, "To hell with you and your snares, Bellatrix!"

Bellatrix grasped at the front of his shirt, fisting her hands in the fabric. " _No_ , Sirius, _stay._ " It was an imploration or an order; neither was quite sure.

He thrust her from him, shoving her back against the railing, and held her at arm's length. "You _will not_ play this game, not with me." Brusquely, Sirius released her and turned, storming back to the ballroom, expecting to hear her mocking laughter behind him, and strangely disappointed that it did not come.

~~*~~

Bellatrix let herself be drawn aside by Raphael Eldridge and given a fair few glasses of champagne. Sirius located the Prewett brothers and proceeded to imbibe no small amount of whiskey. By the midnight hour, both had reached agreeable states of inebriation -- and they were far from the only ones. Members of both parties in attendance seemed to have decided the best way to preserve the peace was through intoxication.

In between bubbling flutes, Bella danced. Almost riotously, she danced, turning the elegant lines of the foxtrot into lightning strikes, the graceful curves of the waltz to seductive curls of fire. She danced as she dueled as she fucked; Bella could never be truly happy unless she was _doing_ something, active in some way, letting all the fury and fervor of her passionate soul thrum in her blood and string along every nerve. Whatever the activity, once Bella made the choice to be involved, it received all her energy, all her being, and as she whirled about the Eldridges' ballroom, she let the exertion sweep all troubling thoughts from her mind. They didn't have to exist. Nothing had to exist but what she permitted; it was the same thought that guided her through crossed wands and the singing haze of jinxes and curses thrown across deserted alleys or open fields. It was simultaneously a gloriously obliterating haze, and a sense of perfect clarity: all would be right, so long as she kept moving, and never let herself stop.

The construct was fragile, though, and came crashing on her when, stepping out into the hall for fresh air, and to escape a particularly unwanted suitor, she collided with precisely the man she'd been so energetically driving from her thoughts.

At first he hardly saw her, but when he focused past the tumble of dark hair and saw the darker eyes and firmly set jaw, he gave her a shove in revulsion. "Can't you leave off, woman?" he grumbled.

" _You_ ran into _me_ ," she retorted, brushing past him.

Sirius tried to let it go, but letting Bella have the last word was never comfortable, and so as she rounded a corner -- towards an atrium, or a powder room, in any case towards escape -- he followed, his long, loping legs easily pacing her small, quick strides. "I thought you didn't _want_ to play games," she shot at him, without bothering to look over her shoulder. Her tone should have been snide, cruel, but while it was not without edge, it somehow fell more on the side of seductive than sneering. "So why are you following me?"

"Merely to comment on the spectacle you've been making of yourself."

She pivoted neatly on one high heel, forcing him to come to an abrupt halt in front of her. "You were watching."

His jaw tightened; she made it sound such a victory for her. "It could hardly be helped, the way you were carrying on," he defended, aware even as he spoke how lame the excuse sounded. Bella _was_ a spectacle, a commotion, and always had been.

An impudent smirk lazily wandered onto her pert red lips. "Why can't you just admit how you're drawn to me? It would go so much easier if you could just give in to it." The scent of whiskey was strong on him as he seized her, fingers bruising at her arms, and her mocking laughter only made him press harder: "That won't make it go away, you know."

"Oh?" He caught her under the chin with one hand, gripping her jaw fiercely. "Seems you've been trying the same tactic. How much champagne have you had?"

She jerked away from him, lifting her head imperiously. "Concerned for my welfare, Sirius? How touching." The icy veneer she was trying to draw over herself was faltering, and she could feel it; Narcissa could call down the chill of winter itself at the slightest provocation, but Bellatrix had never mastered the talent.

"Only pointing out one of your many depravities," Sirius answered hotly. "I couldn't give less of a damn for your welfare."

"Your attempts at indifference would be _so_ much more convincing," she spat, "if you could manage to stop looking down my dress."

Sirius realised with mild dismay that he _was_ staring. In the candlelight of the hallway, brighter than when he had encountered her on the balcony, the violet silk shimmered like a water fall from another world. He found his eyes drawn down from her bosom, itself barely contained by the bodice of the dress, to where the skirt split halfway between hips and knees, revealing a pleated undergown that was nearly sheer. "I can hardly be blamed for that," Sirius snarled back, lifting his eyes back up to her face in an attempt to regain himself. "You're falling out of the damned thing. I didn't see you chastising the Eldridge cousins or Julian Pucey for pawing at you."

As soon as she smiled, Sirius knew he'd given too much away. "Jealousy is _such_ a nice colour on you, Sirius," Bella drawled, reaching one condescending hand up to flick his disheveled hair out of his eyes. "And how it must eat at you. So much more than the others." Her body was still loose and languid from the champagne, but her eyes were keen, incisive -- the look of a panther toying with its prey. "They all lose me because of _my_ choices, you know. It's always me who decides. But _you_ \-- you lost me through _your_ choices." He seized her roughly by the sides, with a threatening growl, but Bella only laughed, reckless and uncaring. "Does it trouble you, Siri, to think of that? You could have me, all that you wanted of me, if not for your own foolishness."

"Shut up, bitch," Sirius snarled, giving her a little shake. She was so small, her tiny waist almost encircled by his hands. The shake threw her off-balance; one foot slid out of its high heel, and she would have been toppled over had not Sirius, with a reflex so quick it shamed him, caught her tight about the waist with one strong arm.

Bellatrix gaped up at him, momentarily breathless, and found his eyes raking over her as though he could devour her by sight alone. His free hand found her throat, curling around with just enough pressure to send a shudder through her slack limbs. Then gaze and fingers both moved down, roving over her chest. With sudden, vehement force, Sirius drew his hand over the swell of her breasts left exposed by her gown's low neckline, his short fingernails dragging red lines on her dusky skin. Bella gasped, her back arching involuntarily at the rough caress. With a low, amused laugh, Sirius did it again, bringing his hand fully down to the violet border of her neckline, and she bucked again, bringing her hips flush against his; even through his trousers and the silken falls of her skirts, she could feel the proof of his arousal, rigid and straining against its confines.

All too aware of her sudden vulnerability, Bella swallowed, hard, and tried to regain control of the situation. "Sirius," she began, forcing the imperious disdain back into her voice, "you--"

But the hand not supporting her tangled sharply in her hair. "Did I tell you," he said, jerking back on the raven curls, "to speak?" His mouth swiftly descended to her exposed throat, ravaging the tender flesh with a savage bite. Bella's knees buckled, and she grasped tightly at Sirius's upper arms to keep herself upright. "Fucking tease," he growled in her ear, before taking another not-too-gentle nibble at her neck. "Time you paid a price for that." In one solid movement, he shoved her against the wall, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss, furious and possessive.

Bella's own body warred with her. One hand sank into Sirius's wealth of dark hair, holding him fast, while the other pummeled at his left shoulder, pushing him away. After a moment, Sirius settled the problem for her by grabbing both wrists and forcing them to the wall. Bella moaned against his mouth, though whether it was in pleasure or protest, even she wasn't quite sure. Their kiss was half a battle, his lips bruising against hers, his probing tongue warring for domination. Only when Bella's mouth twisted, her teeth sinking into his lower lip, did he pull away, grasping her shoulders and shaking her again. When she raised a hand to strike him, he grabbed her arm and pressed a hot kiss to the inside of her wrist, nipping just hard enough to make her gasp. Then he clasped her hard by the hip and neck, forcing her into another kiss.

The sound of footsteps from down the corridor broke the haze enveloping them. The beats -- uneven, one pair heeled, the other not -- mingled with twittering, drunken laughter, echoing from around the nearest corner. Sirius and Bellatrix exchanged slightly panicked looks. He clapped a hand over her mouth, his eyes following the sound down the hallway. With the arm around her waist, he hauled her into the nearest side room.

Once inside, Sirius gave the room -- which was, as it turned out, a rather blandly decorated sitting room, no doubt one of a dozen identical along the hallway outside the ballroom -- the briefest of visual sweeps to ensure it was empty, before slamming Bellatrix up against the door. He leaned one arm against her, pressing her against the mahogany wood, while he fished in his pocket for his wand. A quick spell locked the door behind them, and then, with that token precaution fulfilled, his fingers scrambled at the silken edges of her gown, pushing impatiently, trying to free her breasts. The gown, though, lay too tight against her skin. The fabric would not budge from her shoulders. Sirius was on the verge of tearing the bodice apart when Bella hissed in his ear, "Laces, bastard." He managed to grunt an acknowledgement before sliding his hand around to the intricate pattern of cords criss-crossing her back. A few skillful pulls, and the gown fell open like a budding flower. Sirius shoved at the fabric, pushing it off of her shoulders and barely waiting for her to extract her arms before jerking it over her hips as well. The gown made a violet puddle at her feet, leaving Bella clad in an ebony corset, laced over the whisper-thin chemise.

"Women," he muttered, pawing roughly at her hips, dropping his head for a biting kiss at the rounded curve of her breast, peeping up from above the corset. "Why you make your clothes so damn difficult..."

"I gather it's rather meant to prevent us from doing precisely this," Bella breathed, grasping frenetically at the edges of his jacket. As his mouth drew a line of red marks across her chest and shoulders, Bella pushed at the garment, trying to divest him as summarily as he had done to her.

But Sirius's ember-grey eyes sparked wickedly as he grabbed her wrists and forced her arms behind her back. "Greedy," he admonished, and before she could form a protest, he kissed her soundly. Bellatrix allowed herself to melt into it, surrendering to the onslaught of his power. She made a token struggle to free her arms, but thrilled when he kept her locked firmly in place. So few men presented such a _challenge_ , and none of them quite like Sirius, none so powerfully obstinate...

His hands shifted slightly: one of them moved downward, grasping roughly at the flesh of her hip, before drawing up the fabric of her undergown. He let it bunch in his hand -- the material was so thin that the length of it, from hip to floor, was eventually gathered and crumpled in his fist. And then his hand stole underneath, letting the gossamer fabric cascade over his arm while his fingers probed between her legs. At the same time, the hand still at her back shifted, but it wasn't until she felt a sharp tug around her ribs that she realised he had wound his fingers in the laces of her corset.

As one finger slipped between her folds, sinking into the warm dew, his hand jerked on the laces, tightening the corset just enough to make her gasp. She felt him grin against her mouth, and as his finger delved to press at the sensitive ridge inside her, he pulled on the laces again. It wasn't enough to truly constrict her breathing, but it left her just short enough of air to feel pleasantly lightheaded, and that combined with the skillful coaxing of Sirius's fingers soon had her clutching desperately at his shoulders, mewling for release. But Sirius had learned, and knew her well, and every time he felt her approaching the brink, he would deliberately pull back to slow, languorous strokes, and let maddeningly soft kisses take the place of his satisfyingly brutal ravages. Finally she lashed out in frustration, pummeling his shoulder with her fist, crying out, " _Dammit_ , Siri!"

He laughed; it was full and throaty, the way his laughter should always have been, not dryly crackling with bitterness. He took her earlobe in his teeth and tugged, then breathed, "Ask nicely."

An outraged hiss escaped her, but when he jerked on her corset laces again, she whimpered a quiet " _Please_."

It was the best he was likely to get from her, and Sirius knew better than to press his luck. His fingers moved deftly to give her what she wanted, and as she exploded in ecstasy, he bit hard at her shoulder, leaving a red welt behind.

While Bella was panting, Sirius moved quickly to free himself from the restriction of his trousers. He lifted her thighs in his strong arms and braced her against the wall, and she eagerly locked her ankles around his waist, allowing him to fill her with a single thrust.

Sirius didn't know why he felt this primal _need_ when it came to Bellatrix, this surging desire to possess that, rather than being fulfilled, was stoked hotter and brighter every time he pounded into her. He grunted with the exertion, his hands surely leaving bruises on her thighs, he held them so tightly, and he let his eyes feast on the spectacle before him: the red marks his mouth had left on her skin, the curve of her breasts above the corset bouncing in a delightful rhythm, the high flush in her cheeks, the way her teeth bit into her lower lip when the throes of rapture became too much for her to bear. He gloried in it all. It was his doing, and for this moment, she was _his_ , and none other's.

For her part, Bella found herself clinging to him as though nothing else mattered -- nothing else _did_ , not in that moment, and if it never stopped, nothing could ever go wrong, or cross her, or trouble her. She let each driving thrust push her further into that delectable haze, the swirls of ecstasy obliterating any thoughts of _when_ or _if_ or _next_. She screamed as she came, her nails sinking deep into the back of Sirius's neck, and the spasm of her muscles around him was enough to send him spiraling over the edge as well. His release came with a feral growl, a bestial snarl accompanying each aftershock, the pure guttural lust of the sound provoking shivers in Bellatrix's spine.

But then he withdrew, and set her down, the cascades of sheer fabric falling again to her ankles.

For the space of a heartbeat, his body lingered over hers, the heat from their bodies comingling, near enough to spark a blaze between them. Then he stepped back, leaving Bella feeling oddly bereft, sagging against the wall. He turned away from her as he righted his clothing. Still shaking from the final tremors of pleasure, she bent to gather up her gown, pulling her arms back through the sleeves.

"This was... we should not have..." His voice was husky, ragged; she was pleased to hear it. Even if he demurred now, he could not be indifferent, and that was what really mattered.

She fished in a hidden pocket of her gown for her wand, and touched it behind her back, activating a convenience spell on the laces. "We were meant for each other, you know," she said, as the cords coiled and twirled around each other, drawing the violet fabric back together, like a night-blooming flower folding at the dawn. "Nature and fate designed it."

"It isn't _fate_ ," he spat. "It's a curse. If I knew how to escape it..."

"It's only a curse because you deny it," Bella said, stepping towards him. If ever she could convince him, it should be now, with the smell of her skin still clinging to him, with his nerves still calling out to possess her. "We could have this always, Sirius. We could be _so much_ , you and I. Such greatness."

She reached out for him, but he slapped her hand away. She wasn't sure if the flicker in his eyes was anger, or fear.

"You are nothing to me," he challenged. "This is nothing. Only a mistake."

If he was expecting another outburst, she disappointed him. Instead she fixed him with a heated stare, her cheeks flushed with frustration at his insolence, at his constant denial of what was, to her, so plain, so clear, so true.

"If you really meant that," she said -- and there, far beneath the black pools of her eyes, the tiniest glimmer of vulnerability shimmered for the briefest of moments, a fleck of gold caught by the sun, and just as quickly obscured by another cloud -- "then this wouldn't keep happening."

She turned heel, and left him standing alone, her words a Damoclean sword hanging in the air above him.

 

  
"We always long for the forbidden things,  
and desire what is denied us."  
– Francois Rabelais  


**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work, please check out [my blog](http://cassmorriswrites.com)! I also write original fiction, and my debut novel will be out January 2018.


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